If You Love Something, Set It Free
by C.V. Wilson
Summary: Harry only returned to the Burrow for Bill's wedding, hoping to leave the day after, but will a certain someone make it almost impossible for him to do that? Rated T for some adult situations.
1. The Burrow

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling is the rightful owner of all the Harry Potter characters, settings, and major plot lines. Anything you recognize belongs to her, anything else is of my own mind. Please ask before archiving.

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**If You Love Something, Set It Free**

**Chapter One: The Burrow  
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The wind blew softly against Harry's face, causing his hair to sway in front of his eyes. The trees danced to the silent tune of the breeze as the brown leaves on the ground circled his feet and knocked up against his shoes. He held his trunk in his right hand and Hedwig's cage in his left, which was also trying to keep a grip on his broomstick. He looked up at the marvelous asymmetrical Burrow as he pondered whether or not he should actually go up and knock on the door. There was a beautiful summer's sunset to his right and he could feel the rays of gentle sunlight hit his cheek and warm it. The orange glow coated everything in front of him, making it seem as though it was lit by the heavens above. Harry took a few steps forward, the leaves crunching beneath his feet. He knew he would be welcomed; Mrs. Weasley made that very clear at the end of the term. He knew that he'd have a room there whenever necessary, but he still hesitated. As promised, he went back to the Dursley's when the year ended, and even though it frustrated him till he thought he could stand it no more, he stayed until he was of age, then, in the morning of his birthday, he packed all his things, and left, without so much as a good bye. He did leave a note; saying that they would never have to worry about him again, for he would never, ever, return to that house. His trunk was light, even though he packed everything of his he wanted to keep, he had used a charm to create more room, then, he Disapparated to the Burrow.

He continued to walk forward, hearing the quiet crackle of the leaves break with every step. He wasn't planning on returning to the Burrow this summer, even after receiving an invitation to Bill's wedding, but he changed his mind at the last minute, and decided to stay until the day after it. It was scheduled for August 6, he would only stay for a week, then he would leave most of his things with the Weasleys, pack light, and return to Godric's Hollow. His feet were leading him, seeing as his brain was a little tied up, and before he could even realize it, he was knocking on their door. It didn't even take two seconds before Ron Weasley, the second youngest of the Weasley children, flung the door open. Before he could even say anything, Ron was passed by a blur of light brown bushiness, and Harry was thrown back by a huge bear hug.

"Harry!" Hermione said as she squeezed him, "I'm so glad you're here!" As she released him, Ron came up and clapped his shoulder.

"Yeah mate. We've actually been watching you for the past five minutes, but mum said that we should wait for you to come by yourself."

"We missed you Harry," Hermione said, "We _all_ missed you." Harry noticed the emphasis Hermione used on the word 'all'. His stomach squirmed, but he chose to ignore it, for the moment. He knew that sooner or later he would have to address it, it was inevitable, but he much preferred later. He tried not to think about it, for it was that one little fact that kept him away from the Burrow the most, and it made his stomach clench just to think about her.

"Come on Harry," Ron said to him as he grabbed Hedwig's trunk, "we can put your stuff in my room, Fred and George are back so they'll be using their's again." Harry nodded at him as he grabbed his trunk and hauled it up the winding stairs, while Hermione followed them to Ron's room. After setting his trunk down, Harry proceeded to sit on Ron's very bouncy bed as he let out a great sigh. Hermione sat down next to him while Ron sat down on a little wooden chair across from them. After a short, mildly awkward silence, Hermione spoke up.

"So...Harry... how have you been?" Harry clenched his fists at that question, trying desperately to not let them see. The past month had been hell. The news of tragic accidents and brutal slayings had left little hope in Harry's heart, especially after Dumbledore's death. It was the only thing he thought about for weeks after returning home to the Dursley's. They had asked him many questions, especially Aunt Petunia, who was fully aware what the return of Voldemort actually meant, but he had only given them half-truths and lies.

They soon gave up on attempting to receive any information from him, especially when he started to only come out of his room to eat at painfully awkward and quiet meals. He wore the fake Horcrux around his neck at all times, the cold against his skin reminding him of why Dumbledore died...for nothing. That fact always caused deep, intense anger to bubble up from the pit of his stomach and scold his heart. He knew it was that anger that was going to fuel his search for Voldemort. Voldemort… He was the cause of the all the emptiness in his heart, for all the pain in his life.

First he took away his parents, destroying any comfort Harry could ever receive from them, causing a bottomless void to developed in Harry's hear, then he took his beloved godfather, the one thing that Harry thought could finally help fill the emptiness where his parents' love should lie, and then Dumbledore, the only one who he had been able to attach himself to without holding anything back. Dumbledore was the only person left who absolutely knew Harry, who understood every fiber of his being, even though he would be far too humble to ever admit it, and Harry far too stubborn to ever realize it, it was undeniable. Of coarse, there was Hermione and Ron, and while Harry loved them like they were family, and while they did take away quite a lot of the pain, they could not take away all of it. Harry was grateful for everything they have given to him. People to love, a place to stay, true friends, and as long as they were willing to help, he would let them, to an extent. He didn't want them to get hurt, which had happened before. There were numerous time when they were lying in the hospital wing, and Harry would feel guilty whenever he looked down at one of them in a bed, but, he knew that they wouldn't take no for an answer. They had always been there to help when they could, and Harry actually knew that he would need them along the way, he would need their help, but they couldn't come along the whole way, he had to finish it on his own, the final task could only be done by himself.

However, there were people that he could never let follow him, no matter what. Ron and Hermione had proven themselves worthy, in more cases than one. They had shown they were more than capable of protecting themselves and Harry had to admit that, but there were people who, however powerful, he could never, ever risk. There were people that he could never be close to; for fear that Voldemort would use them to get to Harry. For fear that Voldemort would hurt them, just to hurt Harry, and Harry knew that if he Voldemort did try to do that, it would work. He couldn't stand to see her hurt, or to even think of her hurt. It tore him up inside. Harry suddenly realized that Hermione was still waiting for an answer. After what must have been a very long pause, Harry finally replied.

"I'm Fine." Hermione didn't look convinced, though she didn't push him any farther.

"What's going on here?" Harry asked before Ron could continue on that line of questioning. Hermione started explaining.

"We'll it's obviously been very busy since the wedding's in less than a week. I'm surprised at how quickly Bill and Fleur have managed to get it all arranged. I figure they just want to go through with it as soon as possible, seeing as... you know..." Harry nodded.

"So, is her family going to be here?" Ron nodded back at him.

"They're coming later today. Mum's been trying to get the backyard finished before they arrive. Don't know why though, wedding isn't for days." They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few moments, before Mrs. Weasley broke it.

"Ron," Mrs. Weasley yelled up at them, "Come down here! Make yourselves useful and help with the decorations!" Ron groaned.

"Come on," He said, "It's best we stay on her good side, she's been itching to yell at people all week." They stood and headed down the stairs and out the back door.


	2. Chairs and Tears

**Author's Note: **Well, Hello everyone! I know I said that I would have chapter two up the day after chapter one, and by that I did mean, I would have it up a few months later… So, for all those who are still going to read this, here is chapter two

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling is the rightful owner of all the Harry Potter characters, settings, and major plot lines. Anything you recognize belongs to here, anything else is of my own mind. Please ask before archiving.

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**If You Love Something, Set It Free**

**Chapter Two: Chairs and Tears**

The back yard was filled with chaos. Wedding streamers everywhere, Mrs. Weasley running around, wand out. It was literally a blur of orange and red hair. Harry looked around. He couldn't help but notice that a certain someone wasn't there. He tried to push her out of his mind, but he knew it would be futile. He inwardly sighed; this was going to be a long, long week.

"Oi! Harry! Come on over here!" Harry turned in the direction of the person who was calling him. Fred and George were placing white chairs in two sections with an isle in the middle; apparently Mrs. Weasley felt that they couldn't do much damage there. Fred was beckoning for him to join them. Harry walked over to help, Ron following. Hermione, however, went over to help Mrs. Weasley place flowers in the wedding arch.

"So, away from the shop?" Harry asked as he grabbed a white chair from a huge pile and lined it up with the rows of four that Fred and George had already set up.

"Yeah, Bill wanted to us be here, and mum about threw a fit when we told her that we'd be there the day before the wedding. Yelled at us about how there was so much to do, that we were useless if we didn't at least come early to just help. Business is booming anyway, me and Fred thought we might as well take a break from the shop and spend some time with our dear old siblings." With that, George grabbed Ron and proceeded to ruffle his hair. Ron struggled to get out of his grip with shouts of "Ger-off!" as Fred picked up where George left off.

"Well, spend time with _some _of out siblings, at least. Others, however, don't even leave their rooms half the time anymore." George looked up at the Burrow. Harry followed his gaze to an open window, where he saw a flash of red quickly dart out of view. Harry didn't have to ask George what was going on. He already knew.

"I wonder what's wrong with her. Let me tell you this though, if it's a guy this is over, I think that Fred and I will have to kill him." Harry stared at George. It was quite obvious that Ron had not told either of the twins about what had happened during the school year. He turned to look at Ron, who had managed to escape from Fred's dreaded noogie. Ron was giving him a hard, blazing stare. While Harry had never talked to Ron about what had happened between Ginny and him, Harry was sure that Ron had been able to fit all the pieces together. Luckily, Fred and George had apparently not noticed this unspoken conversation and continued to arrange the chairs. Harry and Ron joined them, but they worked a few meters away from the twins so they could hold their own conversation. After a few seconds of silent working, Ron was first to speak.

"Listen Harry, I know that it may not be my business but she is my only sister, and I guess I would like to know why she's been locked up in her room listening to the radio all summer." Harry rested his hands on the back of one of the chairs as he thought of how he could put his answer into words that wouldn't cause Ron and four of his brothers to pound him into indistinguishable pulp.

"I… I didn't want to see her hurt… I couldn't let him know…" Harry was finally able to stammer as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at the blades of grass, "I didn't want to put her in danger."

"Well, Ginny can handle herself. She's not exactly incompetent." Ron said. Harry shook his head.

"I know that, but I can't risk her… it's complicated, I don't want to hurt her, I'm trying to protect her. I don't want Voldemort to get to her. I just want to keep her safe." He didn't look convinced, but Harry could tell he wasn't going to push it anymore. The lot continued to arrange chairs, but they were doused in an awkward silence. When the work was finished, Mrs. Weasley attached white lilies and white streamers to the chairs along the isle, producing them from her wand. Harry watched her for a few moments before returning inside where Ron and Hermione had already excused themselves to eat lunch.

As he entered the kitchen, he noticed the lack of food on the table, and the absence of Ron and Hermione. He would have put two and two together if he weren't thinking so hardly about…things. After, realizing that Ron and Hermione weren't, in fact, the kitchen, he proceeded to climb the winding stairs to Ron's room. He neglected to knock on the door and instead opened it, which he immediately regretted as he walked inside.

There, in the middle of Ron's room, were Ron and Hermione, arms around each other, connected at the lips. Apparently they hadn't noticed that Harry had indeed entered the room. Harry felt a smile creep over his lips. He cleared his throat.

"He-hem" Hermione pulled her lips of Ron to look over his shoulder.

"Harry!" Ron quickly turned to face him.

"Harry! We thought you were downstairs!" Harry grinned at him.

"Obviously." Hermione's cheeks were as bright as ripe tomatoes.

"I think I'm going to go and…. Uh…" She managed to say, her voice a mere squeak, as she quickly left the room. Ron looked up at Harry, face red as his hair.

"We were just…. um…talking…" Ron tried to explain, appearing very interested in his shoes suddenly. Harry chuckled.

"Didn't seem that a lot of talking was going on from my point of view." If possible, Ron seemed to get even redder.

"It's okay," Harry explained, "you don't have to explain yourself. I understand, trust me." Ron seemed to relax a bit.

"Wanna play some Qidditch?" He asked after a few more seconds, obviously trying to change the subject.

"Sure." Harry and Ron got their brooms and walked outside. They were careful to avoid the newly set up decorations. Bill, Charlie, Fred and George joined while Hermione watched from the sidelines. She cheered as Harry caught the golf ball they were using as a Snitch for the seventh time. He grinned down at her, and then frowned. He realized that usually there was someone else along side of Hermione that was usually cheering him on too. He tried to suppress his feelings, but in the end, he knew that everything was going to come back up and bite him in the ass. 'Chosen One'? He had never felt less chosen in his life.

Dinner that night was…odd. Bill and Fleur were obviously doing something under the table that involved their feet while Charlie, Fred, and George were talking about Quidditch, apparently Ireland wasn't making it to the Cup this year. Ron and Hermione were oddly quiet, Harry couldn't blame them, Fred and George were making kissy faces at them. Apparently Harry wasn't the only one to have walked in during an 'inconvenient moment'. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were discussing something in a quiet undertone that Harry couldn't pick up across the table. Harry quietly ate, staring at his plate the whole time, for if he looked up, the object of most of his turmoil would be looking back at him. He had dared to look in her direction for a few seconds and instantly regretted it. Her flaming red hair was falling over her shoulder, causing a cascading waterfall of fire. Her brown eyes were deep, intense pools of chocolate as they stared into his soul and tore apart his heart. The gently pinkness around them made his heart ache. He knew she had been crying. Her lips were soft and inviting, Harry had to look down to prevent himself from grabbing her and holding her till she smiled again. Harry was grateful when dinner was finished. He moved to go back upstairs until Mrs. Weasley spoke.

"Ginny dear, can you wash the dishes?" Ginny nodded as she picked proceeded to pick up plates from off the table. Mrs. Weasley continued talking.

"We'll then you'll probably need some help. Ron?" Harry turned to her, Ron and Hermione had already made it up the stairs to Ron's room, to do what, Harry didn't want to know. He looked past Mrs. Weasley at Ginny and saw that she was looking down, her hair creating a shield from her eyes. Harry turned away from her and before he could realize what was coming out of his mouth…

"I can help her Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, no Harry, that's okay." But Harry had already moved to help Ginny clear the table.

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**Author's Note:** So, that was chapter two. Please review, it's not that hard. Constructive criticism welcomed, flames, however, are not. 


	3. Dishes and Confrontations

**Author's Note: **I know, I know, I am the worst updater ever. I, however, do have one tiny excuse. Finals, they suck... a lot. Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter. We _finally_ get interaction between Harry and Ginny, and I must say, I thought this was going to turn out a lot worse than it did, so, I'm glad. Also, to those who notice of even care, I went back and did a little overhaul in my headings and such to make it seem a little more visually pleasing. The chapters, however, have not been changed in anyway so don't worry about having to go back and reread. So, anyway, read on!

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling is the rightful owner of all the Harry Potter charaters, settings, and major plot lines. Anything you recognize belongs to her, anything else is of my own mind. Please ask before archiving.

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**If You Love Something, Set It Free**

**Chapter Three: Dishes and Confrontations **

Soap tickled Harry's hands as he gently brushed scraps of food off of the simple white dishes. He felt the sharp sting of silence in his ears and in his heart. The simple task of washing dishes seemed to take hours and all that could be heard was the sound of ceramic hitting ceramic as Ginny stacked the plates into their rightful shelves. Harry finally opened his mouth for the fifth time, trying will himself to say _something, _anything would have been better, but for the fifth time, no words left his lips. Ginny didn't even look at him, her eyes panned down, hair covering them as though to shield her from having to look at him. It was that fact that probably hurt him the most. Couldn't she look at him, couldn't they at least talk? Had he hurt her that bad? He couldn't even bear thinking about it.

Harry's hands had started to feel of grapes left in the sun by the time the dishes were done. Ginny turned on heel to leave, obviously trying to flee from the room as soon as possible.

"Wait!" Harry called after her, grabbing a dishcloth to dry his hand. Ginny stopped dead in her tracks, but didn't turn back around to look at him. Harry noticed her fists curl into tiny balls at her sides, and swallowed hard.

"Ginny," he said gently, "turn around…please" There was a silence between them when all that could be heard was the laughter from two rooms over, it was clear that the rest of the Weasley clan were enjoying themselves. Ginny didn't turn around, she didn't moved forward or back, she didn't even move a muscle except for the ones in her shoulders, which Harry saw tense beneath her shirt. He could here her breathing, the deep and soothing in and out of her breath... he remembered the feeling of it on his cheek… the feel of it on her lips… soft, warm and inviting. He shook the feeling.

"Why?" she suddenly responded, clear that she was trying to sound angry but failing miserably. Harry took a few steps towards her

"Ginny… please." He said again, pleading now entering his voice. He took another few steps, his arm slowly reaching for her, as if unsure if it were okay to touch her. Ginny didn't respond. Harry didn't think she would. His fingertips were inches from her shoulder, but he couldn't seem to will them any closer. Then he heard Ginny begin to cry.

It was quiet, gently almost. She wasn't whimpering, or bawling, but he could still hear her sobs. He could hear her sobs halfway across the world. He could feel them, every single one piercing him like knives through flesh. The distance between his fingers and her, the distance that seemed so hard to fill just seconds before, disappeared. He gripped her shoulder and quickly swung her around. She didn't resist, but stood slumped, as though her body had become a burden. Her head hung down, arms limp at her sides and her nose sniffling quietly as she desperately tried to gain control. Harry placed his index finger and thumb under her chin and gently lifted her head so he could see her face. Her eyes remained glued to the floor for as long as possible, until she could do nothing but stare into his eyes.

As soon as brown met green, Harry saw her forehead crinkle together and her eyes start to water. Without hesitation, without even thinking about it, her clutched her to hid chest, holding onto her for dear life.

"Ginny… please… don't cry…" he could hear her trying to stifle her sobs as she gently tried to push him away with palms against his chest. She shook her head.

"Harry, let me go…" Her voice was weak, not far away from cracking. Harry's heart dropped down to his feet.

"Ginny…" He whispered, trying to soothe her as he gently ran his hand over her silky hair, "tell me what's wrong." He was hoping for her to finally tell him, he was hoping that they could finally talk about something, anything. He did not expect the words that followed.

"You have got to be kidding me." She said, using the moment of Harry's temporary shock to push herself away. "Harry, I have been worried sick! Ever since Dumbledore's funeral, I can think of nothing but you and Ron and Hermione and death and war and Voldemort! I'm afraid that the next time I see you, it'll be crying over your dead body! I don't want t lose you, I don't want to lose anyone, I'm worried, I'm scared! And I feel alone." She paused, looking strait into Harry's emerald green eyes. Harry couldn't look away.

"Harry, I want to help you. I want to be side by side with you, this doesn't have to just be your fight. We can help you, I can help you. I want to help you. I remember what I said, that day when we buried Dumbledore. I said I understood… well Harry, I thought about it and I realized that no, I don't understand. Harry, help me understand. Why can't I fight side by side with you?" The thoughts and emotions that went through Harry's heart and mind almost overwhelmed him. He stood gapping at her for a moment, before he finally blurted out the only words that seemed to make sense at the time.

"I don't want you to get hurt…" Ginny made a noise that only one who is unbelievably exasperated can make. She took a small step forward and took his hands in her own never breaking the contact that their eyes were making.

"Harry, you've got to realize something. Whether or not I'm with you, whether or not I'm here or there, I will get hurt. Something will happen to me, to all of us. It's inevitable. This is a war, and while I am not completely unafraid, I am not naïve. This war has the potential of destroying us, all of us. Every single witch and wizard we have every known. I want to protect my family, I want to fight with you, I don't want to be a damsel in distress who can do nothing but sit by her window waiting… I just wanna… I just want to help protect everything I believe in… I want to be with you." Harry couldn't speak, he was overwhelmed.

"Ginny..." he started, trying calculate what to say. She stopped him, placing her fingers against his lips.

"Don't say anything" She told him, "not right now. Harry, you said you cared about me, you said you cared about me so much you were afraid that Voldemort would take advantage of it. That's how I feel about you. I care about you so much that sometimes… sometimes, it scares me. Harry, if you care about me, you won't let me rot here alone, waiting for you to return, worrying, crying. Just give me a chance, one chance…" And with those final words, Ginny gently stroked his cheek, lightly pressed her lips to his, and left him standing there, in the Weasley kitchen.

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**Author's Note: **Well, there it was, chapter three. Now, I'm not going to make any promises as to when the next chapter will be up because, as most of my readers will tell you, I am notoriously unrealiable, but I will _try, try, try_ to get it up as soon as possible. Reviews can of coarse, presuade me to try harder. ;PAlso, little request, find something that I can improve on in my writing and tell me about it. My goal from writing fanfiction and originals is not only to have fun and be creative, but to improve. Be kind though, flames will NOT be tolerated. 


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